Inevitable
by TangledUpLies
Summary: They always came back to the same four lines.


Hello! So I read this over way too many times before deciding to publish because I'm way too critical of myself. The ending was very hard for me to write, but I think I made it out good enough in the end. I hope everyone likes it, and remember reviews, good or bad, are a writer's best friend! =]

And I also wanted to point out that I am my own beta, so I apologize for any mistakes or whatevers you find in my work.

* * *

"We can't."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You should go."

They stood too close in her apartment. Their bodies were barely an inch from completely touching. One hand tangled in her hair as the other cradled her face. His lips were so near hers that he could almost taste her. The only sound heard was their breathing. Doubt, desire, and need hung around them. And when the words were whispered from his lips, it was excruciating.

But Emily Prentiss understood them.

She remembered that moment all too clearly. It had been almost a year since those words were spoken between her and Aaron Hotchner. Neither realized when it started and how it happened, but they both saw it building up. When they were in Colorado, she saw it in his eyes. When he watched her beside him in the hospital, it was written all over her face. That night she dropped him off, they both felt it. The tension was there. The frustration was present. The desire was evident. And then that night he came to check on her after the case with the missing teenage girls, a part of her cracked when she saw him standing in her doorway. But they knew what was inevitable in the end.

They couldn't do it. They shouldn't do it.

Too much was at stake. Their jobs. The team. Their hearts. Hotch was her boss. Emily was his subordinate. There were rules to abide by. They had people to worry about. Strauss would have them out before they could blink. They couldn't change that. This affair would have had too many consequences. It was too dangerous.

They had to resist.

So they paired up less. They looked at one another less. They talked a little less.

They kept their distance.

...

It went well at first. They followed the rules. They didn't think they would falter.

But then the case in Oregon happened. Six women whom were brunette, beautiful, and successful were raped and mutilated. And each one of them reminded Hotch of Emily all too much. The stress piled up the longer they worked on the case. His patience ran short. His imagination took off. And it didn't go unnoticed by her. She saw it every time she caught his gaze on her. His eyes taking her in, making sure she was okay and alive and not just his imagination. Because of her, he was taking the case too personally.

Two nights later when the case was solved, Emily couldn't sleep. It was well pass one in the morning. So she got dressed and went downstairs to the hotel bar. And there she saw Hotch sitting in the corner booth. A drink untouched sat in front of him as he buried his head in his hands. There was no one else in there besides him. She crept quietly next to him, and sat down. And when he looked beside him, she saw his tired eyes. She gave him a small weak smile.

"Hey."

"Hey." His eyes turned away from her and focused on the drink as his hands laid palm down in front of him. Despite their efforts of trying their best to avoid being alone together for so long, she didn't think it would be awkward now.

"I couldn't sleep." Her voice was low and gentle. He gave her a slight nod. He understood it all too well. She stared at him, hoping he'll look at her again. But he didn't. They sat there in silence. He wouldn't talk to her. He wouldn't look at her. He didn't lose the case or her, but he looked so defeated. So Emily slipped her hand underneath his.

"I'm okay." It startled him. Emily felt his whole body tense. This went beyond their rules, but he needed it. He needed to feel some part of her. He needed the comfort. And when she expected Hotch to pull away, he didn't. In a moment he relaxed, his fingers almost curling to hold on to her hand tighter, and he looked at her.

"I know." He sounded broken, but she saw the relief glimmering in his eyes behind the exhaustion. He tried giving her a weak smile, but it faltered. Their gazes held and her hand remained with his until he broke both contacts. He cleared his throat.

"The flight's at seven. We should try to at least sleep a little."

Hotch refused to look at her again, but Emily nodded in agreement anyway. She slipped out the booth and watched as he threw a few bills on the table. He led her out the bar and towards the elevator. The trip to their rooms was silent. They were the only ones in the hall. And when he walked her down the hall to her room, she felt his eyes and body close as she fumbled with the key. When she finally got the door to open, Emily turned to him. Hotch stared down at her, his face unreadable. He closed the space between them, and Emily felt the heat beginning to rise in her. His hands reached out and cradled her face and neck as her hand slightly gripped on his shirt. Emily closed her eyes as Hotch leaned his forehead into hers and breathed her in.

They shouldn't.

But unlike the first time, neither of them pulled away. Instead, in the hallway of their hotel, Hotch got his first taste of Emily. He kissed her hesitantly. But when she kissed him back, he relaxed and kissed her harder. A whimper escape from her throat as his hand traveled down to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her grip on the shirt tightened as his other hand tangled in her hair. And for a minute, they stood there, savoring one another, until the lack of air forced them to pull apart. Foreheads touching and eyes closed, their jagged breathing filled the silence until she spoke, her voice low and full of regret.

"We can't."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You should go."

It was the same exchange again from almost a year ago. But it hurt more this time. The taste of one another made the difference.

They stood there a little longer until she forced herself to lose the grip on his shirt. She didn't look at him before turning around and walking in her room. And when the door closed, Emily leaned against it and slid to the ground.

She didn't want to go.

...

The distance grew between them. They rarely paired up. They barely looked at one another. They hardly talked, if at all.

And of course, it didn't go unnoticed. They were working with profilers after all. They noticed the increase lack of interaction. Both brushed it off. Emily said it was nothing. Hotch told everyone to just concentrate on their work. No one liked the answers, but they accepted it and went back to work.

Then a month later, four little girls went missing in the suburbs of Texas. And when they finally figured the possible location of their Unsub and his victim, Hotch found himself paired with Emily. They barely said a dozen words to one another. And when they stepped into the dark quiet house, he pointed her to the left. He went right. And down the hall Hotch went, checking each room until he reached the last room. He stepped in and before he could turn around, he felt the cold gun behind his neck.

"You thought you could outsmart me? Well, you're wrong. You're in _my_ control." He took Hotch's gun away and pushed him against the wall with the gun.

"_Your_ control? It's just a minor setback, don't you think? Last time I checked, I wasn't a five year girl. _I_ can actually fight back." Hotch kept his calm exterior.

"I don't see you fighting back now!" He raised his voice, the gun beginning to shake slightly in his hand.

"I know you. You're weak. You need someone small to make you feel like a man. A gun doesn't make you a man. You won't shoot me." The antagonizing was working. He slammed Hotch against the wall. He winced beneath his grip as the gun was firmly planted to his neck.

"I'd shoot you. I don't care. I'm not afraid. You're just a cop." And as he was about to pull the trigger, a shot from behind rang.

The body slumped against Hotch before finally falling. And when he turned, he found Emily standing in position, frozen like the weapon in her hands.

Emily avoided him when everything was being sorted through. She refused to be looked at. She was fine. She drove back to the hotel with JJ, ignoring her friend's worried looks and questions. She didn't want to talk.

But when Emily couldn't sleep, she found herself walking those few steps towards the direction of his room. She hesitated, but knocked. She counted in her head, and it took Hotch nine seconds to open the door.

"Hey." He was still in his work clothes.

"Hey." She was nervous when his eyes searched her.

It didn't take him a long for him to hold the door a little wider for her to enter. She stepped in without a word. He closed the door behind her.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No… I'm fine." She stared down at her feet, suddenly feeling her nervousness intense. Hotch stood in front of her. "You okay?" Emily didn't look up as she waited for his answer.

"I'm okay." She stepped closer to him, closing the little space separating them.

"Good…" Her voice trailed off as she looked around her, directly her eyes at anything but at him. She wanted to scream for a moment. She wanted to tell him she was scared. She thought she was going to lose him again.

His hands wrapped around her waist, and she felt her breath quicken within a second. "Are you?" His voice was low and gentle.

Emily didn't answer him. She stayed silent for minute before she leaned up, catching Hotch's lips in hers. She kissed him feverishly, hoping the contact would erase all the fear she felt tonight. He didn't push her away, only pulling her closer. He felt the pleading and desperation in her kiss. He knew that she needed to feel him like the night he needed to feel her. She clung to him when she pulled away, feeling the tears sting her eyes. Hotch cupped her face as she sighed.

"I'm okay." He repeated what he said before, and all she could do was nod and kiss him again.

Emily didn't want to fight now. She had no energy to. For the moment she ignored the rules. She didn't want the reality they were stuck in. What she wanted was him.

Her hands flew to the buttons on his shirt and he let her. Emily pushed his shirt off before moving her hands to his pants. Their kisses never stopped as he guided her toward the bed. And with each passing second his clothes came flying off. Hotch laid her down, removing his lips from hers only briefly to pull her shirt over head. His lips descended to her neck and naked collarbone as his hand went behind to unclasp her bra. She felt her body blazing. His hands worked on her pants, and with a little work, pulled them down along with her underwear. Their naked bodies tangled briefly, with his lips tasting and kissing the new patches of skin before he lifted her hips and slid into her. Her legs wrapped tight around his waist once he settled and began moving in her. Emily whimpered as each thrust became better than the last.

"Aaron…," she panted. It was the first time she ever called him that, and he felt his world spin a little faster as it escaped her lips, mixing with the waves of pleasure coursing through her face. Her fingers gripped his back tighter the harder he pushed into her. The sounds of their gasps and panting filling the room as their sticky bodies continued to slap against one another. And with a few more pushes, they came together. She bit into his shoulder, suppressing the moan.

Emily wrapped her arms around Hotch once he collapsed on her. She tried to catch her breath with him on and still in her. He buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent. And for a while they laid in the quiet, breathing and relishing the sticky bodies and tangled legs. When he finally found his balance, Hotch propped himself up, staring down at her, sighing. His hand brushed her wet hair from her face, and she saw his eyes fill with ease and care until she recognized those familiar feelings resurfacing. She understood them too clearly. Her voice cracked while her fingertips lightly grazed his face.

"We can't."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You should go."

Hotch touched her face and Emily closed her eyes. It was too early to face reality no matter how much that haunting exchange plagued her mind. It wasn't time. She wasn't ready to go yet.

So Emily forwent it and instead seized Hotch's lips in hers once again.

...

There were reasons why they had the rules. This was why they should've resisted. They knew why it was dangerous.

For four months, they had each other. The fighting stopped. They gave in to what had been screaming at them. The distance disappeared. They stopped repeating that exchange. They started off a little nervous and scared, but they were happy.

It was their secret. It was no one else to know and no one else to tell.

But that Wednesday morning when she walked in, Emily was confronted. Someone found out, and soon enough she found herself in front of Strauss, being scolded like a child.

It was inappropriate. Did they not know what was at stake? Was she not thinking at all? Did she even care?

And while she heard herself being berated for her conduct, Emily's mind raced, wondering what happened to Hotch.

Half an hour, she walked into his office and quietly closed the door behind her. He didn't have to turn around. He knew it was her. She leaned against the door, looking at the ground. They both remained quiet with her eyes to the ground and his eyes to the window.

"So what now?" Her voice was quiet, almost desperate for an answer from him. She didn't look up when she asked.

He turned to her, his voice equally as quiet, "I don't know."

And just like that, they weren't happy anymore.

...

For the next two days, they didn't talk. The distance found them again, but only this time it felt like it wasn't going to end. They didn't tell the team what had happened. They asked, but they said it was nothing. No one believed them.

Three days later, Emily filed for a transfer. She didn't tell him when she did. It was going to be her choice. She needed to make a decision before someone else made it for her. They knew no matter what they couldn't stay on the same team. She needed to leave, not him. He had more to lose than her.

And when Hotch found out two days after, he showed up at her apartment that night.

"So that's it? New York?" Emily heard the anger underneath the calm tone.

She turned away, letting him walk in and shutting the door behind her.

"Yes." She wanted to keep cool. Her eyes were planted to the ground. He stepped in front of her.

"And you honestly think this will solve everything?"

"Yes, I do." He knew she was lying and pulled her to him.

Emily bit her lip, continuing to look down. She was prolonging herself to look at him. She wasn't going to break now. Her arms slipped around him.

"Emily…"

She didn't want him to say her name.

"I should have listened in Texas."

Maybe they wouldn't have taken it so far.

"It was both of us."

He didn't regret that night.

"It's for the best. I'm not going to be the factor that holds you back from the top. I don't want the team to suffer. The team needs you more than me," she whispered. She tried to sound adamant, but her voice wavered.

"I need you."

The desperation in his voice made her chest tighten.

"You'll be fine."

In one week, four months unraveled.

Hotch wanted her to look at him. He pressed against the small of her back and her only reaction was to kiss him. She tasted the last four months. He tasted the finality. And when Emily pulled away, he saw the regret in her eyes.

It had to be like this for now.

Hotch pressed his forehead against hers, cradling her face in his hands.

"We can't."

She didn't want that.

"I know."

He didn't understand.

"I'm sorry."

Every part of her ached inside.

"You should go."

He wanted her to stay.

"Someday."

Because in spite of the shattered hearts and the broken voices, Emily meant it.

Someday their outcome would be different.


End file.
